


Put Another Load In

by SushiOwl



Series: Assorted Scenes [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hotdogging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's laundry day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Another Load In

Stiles wasn't so much as taking advantage of his boyfriend as he was being resourceful. Derek had a nice new apartment and a huge, shiny TV that was infinitely better than the one at Stiles's house. Derek had given him a key, so that was an invitation to hook Stiles's Xbox up to the TV and spend countless hours playing Dragon Age III, right? Right. They still spent time together. Derek liked to sit on the couch behind him and comment on how the his female Qunari character had a very distracting butt.

Whilst he was shooting fireballs all over the place, he spotted Derek moving throughout the apartment out of the corner of his eye. He vaguely saw the laundry hamper he was holding, so he he assumed he was going around and picking up the articles of clothing he liked to discard indiscriminately when undressing. It wasn't until Derek moved by the TV toward the laundry room that Stiles had to pause his game lest he die spectacularly.

“Oh holy God, what are you wearing?”

Derek stopped, looking at him over his shoulder. “What?”

Stiles's mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before he just indicated to the sorry excuse for shorts that Derek was clad in. They were old, faded into a light blue, and they had probably been pants at some point by the fringe on the hems. The legs clung obscenely tight to him, high on Derek's thighs with one side longer than the other. There was a tear under one of the back pockets, curving under a butt cheek and proving that Derek was definitely not wearing any underwear.

Stiles realized he was tilting too far to look around the TV when he toppled to the ground, tossing his controller.

Derek looked amused. “It's laundry day. I don't have anything else clean.” He continued into the laundry room.

Stiles managed to get to his feet, following. He didn't know of anyone else that waited so long to do laundry that they only had one pair of shorts left, except maybe college students that had to ration their quarters. He licked his lips as he stood in the doorway of the room and ran his eyes up and down Derek again. 

He was barefoot and shirtless, the triskele on his back shifting with his flexing muscles as he loaded the washer with darks. Stiles would take any opportunity he could to rake his gaze over those broad shoulders and back than tapered like an arrow point into a narrow waist. The shorts were hanging low on hips, showing off the dimples at either side of the base of his spine and the top of the cleft of his ass.

Stiles closer, lifting his hands to run them down the expanse of Derek's beautiful back. A muscle jumped under his hand as Derek started, looking over his shoulder at him. Stiles just gave him a smile and leaned in to wrap his arms around his waist, pressing his cheek into the base of his neck.

“Something I can help you with?” Derek asked as he dumped a cupful of detergent into the washer, closed the lid and turned in on. 

“I'm good,” Stiles replied, rubbing against Derek's skin with a contented sigh.

Derek snorted, before he took hold of Stiles's wrists to loosen his hold so he could turn in the circle of his embrace and drape his arms over Stiles's shoulders. “You've seen me in less.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles replied, dropping his eyes to the faded denim stretched tight over the bulge of Derek's groin. He made a show of running his tongue along his top lip before he looked back up through his lashes. “It's still hot. Makes me want to pull them off with my teeth.” 

Derek's brow twitched, before Stiles found himself with his back against the washing machine and his mouth being devoured by his hot werewolf boyfriend. He surged up into the kiss with a moan, splaying his hands across Derek's shoulderblades. He let out a shaky noise when Derek baited his tongue into his mouth and sucked on it hard, and Stiles raked his his fingernails down Derek's back. Derek jerked forward, his hips smacking into Stiles and making his ass bang against the washer.

Stiles could feel Derek's dick digging into him right below his navel, so he broke the kiss to push the wolf back enough to pop the button on the shorts and pull down the zipper, pulling his cock out and giving it a stroke. Derek made a rumbling noise which was pretty much the werewolf equivalent of a purr. Stiles tipped his head to the side with a grin as Derek attacked his neck with sucking lips and grazing teeth. Stiles pumped the cock in his hand, pushing the pad of his thumb against the slit.

Derek lifted his lips to his ear. “What are you planning on doing with that?” he asked, his voice pitched low like thunder, before he sucked Stiles's earlobe between his teeth and nibbled.

Shivering with a sigh, Stiles pulled his thumb back and watched the line of precome attached to it and Derek's cockhead stretch and snap. “There are a lot of things I want to do with it. But we'd have to move for most of them.”

Derek licked the shell of his ear. “Not necessarily.” Before Stiles could ask, Derek took him by the hips and turned him around to bend him over the washer. His deft hands made quick work of Stiles's belt and pants, letting them drop to tangle around Stiles's feet.

“Uhn!” was Stiles's intelligent opinion on this turn of events. He canted his hips back as he held onto the sides of the washer, wriggling his ass back and forth. Derek gave it a smack, before he took hold of his ass cheeks and kneaded them, pulling them apart and rubbing his thumbs against Stiles's hole. Stiles let out a little whine. “We don't have any lube,” he managed to say.

“Don't need it,” Derek growled.

“Excuse you—“ Stiles started to say before Derek slotted his cock in the cleft of his ass and gave a thrust. Whatever complaint Stiles was going to make turned into a moan. His mouth dropped open at the way Derek's cock rhythmically pushed and slid over his hole, dragging the ring of muscle open just a bit. He dropped his forehead onto the lid of the washer and pushed his hips back. “Do that again!”

Derek laughed softly, doing just that. He held onto Stiles's hips, holding him on his tiptoes as he slid his cock back and forth like a piston, working up to a punishing rhythm that had the washer tipping back and forth on its pegs. 

Stiles moaned hard each time the head of Derek's cock caught his hole, tugging it before moving up. Derek felt so close to just pressing inside of him, spearing him on his thick cock that it drove Stiles mad. He released one side of the washer to reach under him and grab his own swinging cock, fisting it hard to Derek's rhythm. He panted hard into the growing condensation under his face on the lid of the washer.

Derek leaned over him as his hips drove against Stiles, biting and sucking at the back of his neck. Stiles keened, and Derek gave an answering moan, his fingers digging into the hips they were clutching. 

Stiles could feel the building low in his body, the boiling heat that caused his toes to curl and his balls to pull up tight. He could tell by how Derek was breathing into the hairs on the back of his neck that he was close too. When Derek latched onto his skin with his teeth, Stiles cried out, his cock jerking in his hand and spurting against the front of the washer. His muscles all tensed as he arched, his ass cheeks clenching around Derek and ripping a howl out of the werewolf's mouth as he followed.

Stiles didn't have bones anymore. He sagged against the washer like a wet rag, breathing hard and trying to put his brain back together. Derek pulled him to the ground, tugging Stiles's shirt off to wipe his back and the washer before tossing it at the clothes hamper to be put in with the next wash. Stiles flopped against Derek's chest and just enjoyed the way his body hummed, uncaring about how his undies and pants were still around his ankles.

Eventually, Stiles tilted his head up to press his lips into Derek's jaw. “That was new.”

“Mm,” Derek said in agreement, his head tipped back against the dryer.

“Does it have a name? What we just did?” Stiles asked.

Derek pressed his lips together, before he tilted his head to peek at Stiles. “You'll laugh.”

“Will not,” Stiles said, because really, how immature did Derek think he was?

Derek held his gaze for a long moment. “Hotdogging,” he finally said.

Stiles laughed until he nearly peed.

**Author's Note:**

> I take prompts on Tumblr. If you ever have something for me, [hit me up.](http://thesushiowl.tumblr.com/post/60489708862/give-me-tw-prompts)


End file.
